


150. Christmas Present

by alleyoops, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Sam Worthington and Ryan Kwanten [150]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-26
Updated: 2017-04-26
Packaged: 2018-10-24 08:06:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10737591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alleyoops/pseuds/alleyoops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica





	150. Christmas Present

They could have taken the guest room at Ryan's parents' house - Sofia made it plain that she wanted them to - but Ryan figured he and Sam could use some time to themselves, after several days of being with their families nearly round the clock. So they're checked in to a comfortable suite in the Sydney Citadel for the night, with promises that they'll see their parents again in the morning.

"Hey, love," Ryan murmurs, kneeling on the bed behind his lover and putting his arms around Sam's neck. "We did it," he says, pressing his cheek to Sam's hair. "And everyone survived."

"They did, didn't they?" Sam says, leaning back against Ryan, one hand coming up to touch Ryan's wrist. "Even when I kissed you," he grins.

"You displayed impressive restraint," Ryan assures him, grinning. "Come to think of it, so did I." He ducks his head and brushes a kiss over Sam's throat, breathing his lover in.

"No crawling into my lap?" Sam says, turning his head so he can capture Ryan's mouth in his.

"Nope, not once." Which would explain why Ryan's gearing up to be all over Sam right about now. First, though... "I have something for you," he whispers, but he tangles his fingers in Sam's hair and kisses him again and again before easing back.

Fuck. All Sam really wants is more of that but if Ryan got him something... "Yeah?"

Slipping off the bed, Ryan fetches a square envelope from the side pocket of his suitcase. It's plain cream vellum, heavy for its size, with the discreet but distinctive Citadel emblem. He takes a seat next to Sam and hands the envelope over, resting his head on his lover's shoulder.

Surprised, Sam frowns a little at the envelope. "You weren't supposed to get me anything," he says, but he opens it anyway, finding inside a certificate for two hours with a professional Citadel photographer, plus a book of 8x10 prints from the session. _Fuck._ "Is this meant to be as perverted as I think it is?"

"Of course. That's a question you pretty much never need to ask," Ryan says with a laugh, stealing a glance at Sam's face. "And really, it's a gift for both of us, because I intend for you to involve me in the process. So it doesn't really count." 

"Is that how it works?" Sam asks. "If we're also involved, it's not really a present?" He sure as hell hopes so.

"Right." Ryan grins. "They'll take pictures of one or both of us, doing whatever you want. No faces, of course." They'll still have to be careful as hell about just where they leave the finished products lying around, but it'll be a big step up from pics on Sam's cell phone.

"Whatever I want?" Again, Sam can't help but check.

"Well, um. Yeah," Ryan says with a shrug, although he can't help but wonder just what is going through Sam's mind. "When have I ever said no to you?" He laughs. "And meant it?"

Sam grins. "You're gonna be awfully sore at the end of that two hours."

Ryan bites his lip, and his cheeks flush bright red in a moment. "You sound like you're already making plans," he murmurs. A pulse of lust throbs in his cock. Sam's plans pretty much always turn out really really well -- for both of them.

"I am, but I also want you to consider letting me have a few pictures taken with your face in them. Not for the book necessarily, but a couple I can lock away somewhere, just for me," Sam says softly, leaning in and kissing Ryan, their lips brushed together.

If possible, the blush turns even hotter. "You're the gorgeous one," Ryan mumbles, but he's not protesting. Just arguing a little, even as he slips his arms around his lover and deepens the kiss.

"Bullshit, but there's no point in me having a picture of you stretched open around my hand if I can't see the look on your face," Sam whispers, licking into Ryan's mouth and biting at his lips as he pushes him back, down into the bed.

 _Oh god_. Ryan moans and spreads his thighs automatically, wrapping his legs around Sam's waist. Not that Sam wouldn't know damn well just who was in the picture - Ryan's ass looks pretty damn distinctive now, with the huge sunburst tattoo around his hole - but he knows that's not the point. He rocks up against his lover, grinding their cocks together.

"I should put my hand in you now," Sam whispers between fervent kisses, grinding roughly back. "Have you aching tomorrow."

Ryan whimpers loudly, his cock hard and swollen and pressed tightly against his zipper. "Please," he begs in a whisper, licking Sam's stubbled throat. "Please, Sir. It's been so long."

Sam pulls back, watching Ryan for a moment before he glances around the room and then nods. "I want you in the chair," he says, nodding at the huge leather armchair in the corner. "Feet up on the cushion. You can get naked while I wash up."

"Yes, Sir." Ryan watches Sam as he gets up, breathless for a long moment before he can make himself move. When his lover disappears into the bathroom he undresses, managing to unlace his boots with shaky fingers. God, he wants this so much -- it's amazing how Sam has addicted him to things he never cared much about one way or the other in the past. Still trembling slightly with excitement, he takes a seat in the armchair and pulls his knees to his chest, his hole suddenly feeling so fucking empty.

Sam sheds his clothes in the bathroom and washes up, making sure he soaps every inch of his hands, wrists and forearms before rinsing them in almost scalding water and drying off. He's already hard, which is no surprise. As Ryan said, it's been a while and the thought of making room for himself in Ryan's body, like this, Christ -- it's heady one. But nowhere near as heady as seeing Ryan where he told him he wanted him, legs up, tattoo and hole completely exposed. Fuck. He lets out a low whistle of approval, grabs a can of lube from the cabinets, and pulls up a small stool, taking a seat in front of his lover.

Ryan's breath catches and his gaze roams over his lover. He feels like every single nerve he possesses is standing at attention already; he just wants Sam that fucking badly. "How do you do this to me?" he whispers, mind-blown as he ever is when he stops to think about it. "Make me need you like this."

Sam smiles. "We do it to each other," he whispers back, leaning in to kiss Ryan, tongue delving into his mouth, tasting him thoroughly.

Groaning softly Ryan kisses him back, and he locks his arms more tightly around his legs in an effort to keep from reaching out. He feels so vulnerable, so bare -- with anyone else, he'd run. But with his sir he feels warm and safe. Sheltered.

"Here we go," Sam says, reaching for the lube and slicking his whole hand while Ryan watches. "You'll be able to see what I'm doing this way," he tells him.

Ryan nods and whispers, "Okay." His cock thumps hard and he presses it to his belly, wanting an unobstructed view like he's never had before. A shock of lust rushes through him and his hole clenches tightly, eagerly waiting. 

Sam starts with two fingers, rubbing them around Ryan's hole, tracing the design on his flesh. "This is so fucking hot," he murmurs. "I think when we go down to breakfast tomorrow, you should leave your jeans off, eat on the floor, let everyone see..."

Biting down hard on his bottom lip, Ryan tries to hold back the whimper -- but he fails miserably. "Yes, Sir," he whispers, feeling like his heart just kicked into overdrive. No one else has seen his tattoo yet - other than Dan, of course - and the thought of showing it off to a bunch of complete strangers, god. He's so embarrassed and so aroused at the same time.

"They'll all want to fuck you," Sam says, pushing those two fingers inside Ryan without any further ado. Groaning softly as they sink right into his boy's greedy hole.

Ryan whimpers again. Louder. "You could let them," he whispers, clutching rhythmically at Sam's fingers and dropping his head back against the chair. "Could let a few of them fucking tear me open for you. There'd be nothing I could do to stop it..."

Sam's breath hitches hard, his cock jerking violently, and he shoves another finger into Ryan's hole, twisting them roughly. "Greedy slut. You'd love that, wouldn't you? I could let them fuck you two at a time, let someone else have your mouth, watch them wreck your ass..."

"Oh god." Ryan's fingernails dig into his palms. In one sense, he'd fucking hate that, being taken by anyone other than Sam. But another part of him - knowing that he was taking it just to fucking turn Sam on - that part would fucking love it. "And then when they were done, you'd remind me - all of us - who I really belong to."

"Damn right I would," Sam says, pushing a fourth finger into Ryan, much more quickly than he usually would, his lover's body opening up for him, taking him in. "I'd fuck you so hard you'd swear they'd barely touched you. Shove my hand," his thumb pressed in against his palm, his whole hand pushing deep, "into your wide open cunt and fuck my cock into it."

Ryan shouts, jerking back against the chair. But he's got nowhere to retreat to. Gasping for breath and ignoring the sudden tears in his eyes, he cautiously drops his gaze down to where Sam is coring him open, buried to the wrist inside his body. "Oh, god," he whispers, stunned by how fucking _wrong_ it looks, no matter how many times he's felt it before. "Oh god oh god..." He swallows hard, rocking slightly and fucking himself on Sam's hand.

"Yeah." Sam nods, pushing his hand deeper, his knuckles stroking right over Ryan's prostate.

A mewling kitten would probably sound tougher than Ryan right now. He's so wrapped up in his lover filling him, fucking _owning_ him, and he doesn't even hear the whimpers falling from his lips. But that's part of what makes it so damn good: he knows he can let go completely with Sam, can totally surrender himself to sensation without worrying about what his lover thinks of him.

Sam glances up from where they're joined. "Maybe I shouldn't wait til morning," he says, shifting from the stool onto his knees, his cock in his free hand.

It takes a few seconds for Sam's meaning to register through the haze in Ryan's brain. And then precome pulses from the head of his cock, welling up around his piercing. "Oh god, please," he whispers, staring at his lover's face. "Please. Sir."

Sam nods, pulling his hand back so the widest part has Ryan spread open, his fingers curled to receive his cock as he slides it inside and pushes both hand and cock back into Ryan, a rough groan spilling from his lips. "Fuck," he whispers, wide-eyed, watching it all.

It wrenches an animal moan from deep within Ryan's chest. He digs his fingers into the upholstered arms of the chair, his eyes hot on his lover. "Oh god, please," he begs, rocking on Sam's fist, even wider now than it was before. "Please, Sir! Use your boy!"

And Sam does. Hips snapping, he fucks his cock through the circle of his fist inside his boy, pleasure flushing through him so fast and hard he's already on borrowed time.

Ryan whines and hooks his legs over the chair's arms, opening himself up even wider. His back arches and he fights a reach for his cock. "Please," he gasps, struggling to hold himself back from the edge. "Fuck, Sir, please let me come for you!"

"Only if you can do it like this," Sam says, driving into his fist and Ryan's slick open hole.

It doesn't take much more. Seconds only, and abruptly Ryan shouts, pleasure exploding through him in a mad tidal wave. He feels like he could wash away in its wake, barely connected to himself as he is. Sobbing for breath and struggling to focus on his lover.

Sam follows Ryan over, filling his boy with spurts thick and hot and heavy, unable to hold back any longer. He keeps pulling on his cock, making sure Ryan has every last drop before finally stilling.

Ryan shudders, clinging to the chair. It feels like he's completely lost his center, and he hesitantly reaches out, needing to grab Sam and just hang on, but worried he'll topple them both to the floor.

"Hold on," Sam tells him, slowly easing out, his hand wiped on his thigh before he wraps both arms around Ryan and pulls him in close. "Christ. I love you so much," he whispers.

Any words Ryan actually manages get lost in the muddle. He plasters himself against his lover, almost too tightly for breath. The words probably weren't too important, anyway; _this_ is what he needs, to be so close that they can nearly melt into each other.

"So good for me," Sam whispers against the side of Ryan's neck, his arms so fucking tight around his lover, his boy. Still blown-away by what they've done. How far they've gone. Christ.


End file.
